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Holidays Humdrums

2010-04-05T11:34:00.000-07:00

So Easter has come and passed. I love this holiday - the spiritual side, the bunny, egg hunt and all the goodness out there in the world.

This weekend I had quiet moments, but I felt very melancholy. It's very difficult I realized when your spouse does not share your faith. I didn't say support your faith.
But it's only on religious Holiday observances when I feel the divide is crippling, and the lack of oneness crushing. I never feel so alone as on those occasions. It's in those moments I understand why people like having a Church family, or sometimes have family with those who are not related to them.

The only thing I feel I can do is to hold on tight to the love of my son, his joy in doing the Egg Hunt (even though he no longer believes in the bunny), and his faith in higher power(s). I also hold on tightly to my faith in the Lord, the beauty of life and all my blessings. And yet I am still sad.

It's in our hearts

2010-03-01T06:41:00.001-08:00

Pre-Olympics. The first time I watched Sid the Kid in the Tim Horton's commercial I cried.
Really, every time I watch this commercial on my t.v. it brings me to tears. The passion. The pride. The love.
So I'm going to quote the commercial cause I can't improve on these words which sum up the emotions of my great country Canada!

Hockey
Hockey is our game
but really it's much more than a game
It's a passion that brings us all together
on frozen ponds, at the community rink, and in our living rooms
It's the feeling you got the first time you stepped on the ice,
the feeling you had when you scored your first goal
Hockey is in our driveways
it's in our dreams and every post-game celebration
It's in the streets every time your friend yells "car"
in every rink across the county
It's in our hearts
Hockey is the thought inside your head saying
wouldn't it be amazing getting up everyday and playing,
doing something you love to do

Less is more...

2009-11-15T08:38:00.000-08:00

Yes sometimes less is more.

Here's the run down. I am generally a skeptic wearing my rose colored glasses. I just can't buy into things without a lot of suspicion and / or questioning.
Therefore when one of my friends talked about her "vision" board at a book club meeting I struggled to hide my snickers. Don't get me wrong I believe in karma and a great deal of serendipity in the universe but "vision" board was a leap even for me.

So - I have this little magnetic board in my office and I thought was the hey lets put something "visionary" up there. I stuck my coveted little (and I mean little) booklet of my beloved Mini Cooper pamphlet. Laughing to myself, I simply forgot all about it.

Twenty Anniversary - my hubby gives me a little toy remote car. Weird I thought, but definitely different. And then a card "trade in" for the real deal a Mini. As my son said I screamed and ran around the house like a little girl.

Usually my general mode is procrastination. But this time I stuck on my "vision" board simply - "I want a powered blue Cooper S that's to die for" (hopefully not literally).
Checking Craigslist of all places I see my ad. I immediately respond and find it's a dealer in Dayton. That was Friday, test drove on Wed, had hubby test drive Sat, get finances in order and voila it's mine.

I always thought it was small, but it takes up half a space in my garage. Which brings me to my point - less is more, less is everything to me as I'm am head over heals in love.

Is it shallow for me to be in love with a object, a possession?
Or too allow this possession to be my new obsession?

Frankly I don't care, maybe the Honeymoon phase will wear off. I'm enjoying the ride while it lasts.

There is even a Mini website for owners and a FB page. They say to own one you have to join the cult. I remember reading this Marketing article on cult branding so I went back and found it. It says "Cult brands live with them wherever they are, making life more interesting, more entertaining, cooler, hotter, smarter, stronger, and just plain better."
Check, check, check... all true. I think I've drunk the Koolaid.

So if give me a shout if you want a chance to drive with the more interesting, cooler, hotter, smarter, stronger me. But I warn you I might have a bottle of Koolaid in the car.

Ugliness has a new name and a pretty face

2009-10-11T08:39:00.000-07:00

OK, yesterday I got scammed. A young man who said he lived up the street was trying to sell books to donate to a local hospital, to send the local high school band to London England.
He had all the facts right.
But when I went to look for Prestige Sales USA on the internet I found out that all over the States others have been scammed with similar stories.

First I felt totally foolish. I let him into the house - and now I was worried about him casing my place for potential robbery.

So, I called our local police and reported him. They said they would try and find him in our neighborhood; and I gave the name that he put on my form (probably an Alias). Tomorrow, I'll cancel my check with the bank. The worst part for me is that he said an older lady up the street had bought over $500 worth of books for her Grandchildren and the hospital. I hope this was just part of his scam story, and not the truth. I'll send out an email to our neighborhood as I am in charge of that stuff for our HOA, in the hope that others may cancel their checks or payments.

I'm a little wiser, and a little less trusting.
Less trusting that's something I hate to say, let alone write. It's a crazy world out there, and yesterday a little piece of it caught up with me.

Ouch! once bitten, twice shy - or you can be like me, and hopefully save the next guy from the sting.

The Passing of another King...

2009-08-25T07:38:00.001-07:00

First MJ the King of Pop and now John Hughes who is the undisputed King of 80's teen pop culture movies. It's taken me this long to process his passing because of two things: 1) I love movies 2) his movies are some of my childhood favorites. From Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Pretty in Pink, Sixteen Candles, Uncle Buck, Planes Trains and Automobiles to Breakfast Club, John Hughes seemed to reach inside my soul and understand my plight in life.

The beginning letter is as follows:

Saturday, March 24, 1984. Shermer High School, Shermer, Illinois. 60062.

Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong. What we did was wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write this essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care? You see us as you want to see us... in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal. Correct? That's the way we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning. We were brainwashed.

The end letter is as follows:

Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong, but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us... In the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain...

...and an athlete

...and a basket case

...a princess

...and a criminal

Does that answer your question?... Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club.

There you have it teen angst at it's finest. We are more than a sum of all parts we scream. We are more than you (our parents) can comprehend! We haven't figured out what we want to be or do in life. Leave us (me) alone!!!

I'm writing this down as I snicker because I know in a few short years I'll have one of those human beings walking around in my household looking at me as if I'm an alien from another planet. An alien whom doesn't speak his language, understand his culture, or him.

At least I know that on any given day, even as a parent -

I can be logical, clear headed, sometimes even right (a brain)

I can be fashionable, stylish, even selfish and self centered (a princess)

I can kick butt in karate or badminton (an athlete)

I can scream uncontrollably or completely fall down in a puddle of slobbering mess (a basket-case)

And sometimes shameful wasting my talents in lieu of sleep (a criminal)

Thank you Mr. Hughes for understanding!!! Hopefully I can follow your lead with my son.

Don't be...

2009-08-24T09:55:00.000-07:00

When writing my last Fairy tale post, my wandering mind thought of Fiona. There has been many famous Fiona's in the world of singers, such as Fiona Apple, and Fiona's in film and books such as Shrek, Lemony Snicket, The Giver and even Josie and the Pussycats; but there has only been one Fiona-Fee.

Fiona was her name, but everyone nicknamed her Fiona-Fee.
She was a little girl that was in my son's preschool. She was very American but she had a love for everything British. She was a mix of girly-girl, tomboy with a pinch of quirky. My son and her related to each other- not as a crush but as kindred spirits. Fiona-Fee and my son definitely marched to the beat of their own drums. This was special because at the time he did not connect well with other children or most adults.

I caught a snippet of one of their conversations one day, which was shear delight, where she was telling him "Don't be Sheepish" . They say opposites attract and where mine was very anxious and cautious Fiona would throw caution to the wind, leaping head on to the next big adventure.
I think I even saw him flash her a shy-smile at that comment.

Fast forward to the Nativity pageant at Christmas. The kids drew their parts from a stocking.
You guessed it my son drew the role as one of the sheep.

Sometimes the universe has a sense of humor. Blimey.

Since that time we moved school districts and we lost touch with Fiona-Fee. I hope our paths will cross again someday.

A hero, a quest, and a magic key

2009-08-24T04:31:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there were two people who moved from a little island to a big city, where they found each other. Shortly after they had a little girl, their only, whom they cherished.
The girl grew up to be strong and independent, her life filled with joy, friends and grand princess adventures.
Ten years later two sisters arrived. The Queen, the girls mom, mind now became clouded. The Queen now was a prisoner of her own undoing. The little girl, in duty, was in charge of the household and taking care of her little sisters, and the Queen. Her Daddy worked very hard toiling in several jobs as there were very poor.
Overtime the little girl was wrought with loneliness and despair missing her adventures and friends. She turned to the written word and moving pictures as escapes, but secretly wished for someone to rescue her. One day, a boy came from a far away land. He offered her a secret magical key. The key, he said, would unlock great powers, but only when the time was right. The boy, the dragon-prince, shucked off his mortal coil vanishing forever. For a time the Kingdom plummeted into grave darkness.
The little girl guarded her secret key. She was often frustrated to find that she could not unlock it's hidden powers. All seemed hopeless, until one day she realized maybe it unlocked the powers that she already held within. The key gave her the courage to question and ask for what she wanted, the patience to wait for the universe to present answers and choices, and the faith to leap into the unknown.
Did she live happily ever after.... (TBC) To be continued

As you probably guessed I am the little girl. My childhood hero - the dragon prince was Bruce Lee. A unlikely hero for a princess, but there it is.

He opened my mind to the beauty that was Martial Arts - the power of the unspoken movement. Like kata, dance or unspoken gestures nothing provokes a more emotional response in me. Like many, I so admired his passion and discipline. He became my hero also because he was an avid reader, had a sharp intellect and
also questioned the "Status-Quo". He didn't teach the Martial Arts Dogma's at the time such as karate, jujitsu etc. but took pieces from each developing his own personal style. I came from a strong Irish Catholic background where questioning was not encouraged. Bruce showed me that questioning was acceptable, and the basis of life and faith was to make choices.

My quest -
I took up karate in my twenties but for many reasons the timing wasn't right.
My son was born with sensory, anxiety, and withdrawal issues. The Occupational Therapist suggested that I get him into martial arts or wrestling. From the first moment he stepped into the dojo he seemed transfixed and transformed. Eventually karate gave him a key to reach from his world and connect back into mine. I knew this was my sign that the timing was right for me to also try this sport.
At the time there were only kids ages 16 and under taking the class. I asked the Sensei if I could take it as an adult. I remember him asking me if I wanted to get more fit, or lose weight as my motivation for taking karate. I thought, nope, I want to become a black belt. Last week I
reached that goal. Now my real journey into this sport begins. And I won't take that step alone as there are now 15 other adults taking the classes with me.

I am grateful for people in my life who inspire me, as they are many. But Bruce will always be the most special as he was my first hero. And although I has not met him in person his imprint has changed my life forever.
Did the girl live happily ever after? Happy enough, and that's the key.

What's all the fuss? seeing clearly...

2009-08-04T09:24:00.000-07:00

I'm going to get my eyes done for the 2nd time around. In the late 80's I had my eyes surgery RK which was fairly experimental at the time. That corrected my eye site for about 20 years. But now I've decided to get PRK which is a type of Lasik process.

You would surmise that if I got eye surgery done at a time that it was pretty new and risky that I must be a bit of a risk taker. That's a fair assessment. Plus I'm not much of a worrier, I tend to take life as it comes.

So why oh why are so many people bothered that I'm going this the second time around. Hubby (Got love him) - can you just get one eye done at a time? Friends - can you do this when kiddies goes back to school so you won't have to worry about them? All well intentioned, and well meaning I know. And I love them for all their worry and concern.

So, I'm going to let them worry on my behalf. I'm getting it done Aug 17. I have a ride lined up for that day. From there I'll just take it as it comes, or goes.
I just can't wait for not having to put contacts in everyday! Even if I'm delusional with my rose-coloured glasses (contacts) on; that's how I walk through life! And I'll walk with a little more bounce in my step on Aug 18 or so... since I'll be able to see all those cracks, crevices and pitfalls that others notice.

Moon the Balloon

2009-07-31T12:21:00.000-07:00

"It's invasive ... just setting up a big camera and peering into Canada. And ... kind of rude." Unlike mass mooning. That's typically polite Canadian behaviour."

A very small Ontario city near the UP takes revenge: Sarnia residents are planning a cheeky protest against an American electronic systems provider that's testing its newest technology – an 18-metre-long balloon equipped with a surveillance camera – on their city from across the border. The event, "Moon the Balloon," is scheduled for 5 p.m. on Aug. 15 in Sarnia's Centennial Park. Any Canadian with two cheeks and a sense of outrage is invited to join in.

We may not have weapons of mass destruction, but our "cheeky" attack is equally deadly. I guess that's why one of the most loved and popular comedy shows in Canada Corner Gas has the lead actor Brent Butt. I kid you not. Do you see a trend here?

About face, forward march: Backing out of my blog quickly...

Caption this picture...ah ha moments

2009-07-31T09:50:00.000-07:00

What are your best ah-ha moments? this year

One of mine : I put in a pool in our backyard so I'd be the party house for my boys, the house where their friends would always come over and I'd get to know their friends.

OK, my ah-ha is that I realized having people over all summer and me being a hostess is all-time-consuming. I know all their friends,
now like Dr. Seuss book Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now!

j/k - I love having them over! But be careful what you wish for.

Blind Dating and Rapunzel

2009-07-28T09:51:00.000-07:00

Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your golden hair

Little diddy about a pregnant women who had a craving. Her husband, knowing better than to disappoint, stole for two nights in a row, the plant Rapunzel to satisfy his wife's urges from the enchanted garden. The witch whom owned the garden promised not to cast a spell on him in return for their first born - whom she called Rapunzel. The rest of the story is pretty well known.

The prince who discovered Rapunzel was attracted to her because of her voice and singing.
When he met her he asked her to escape and be his wife. Rapunzel whom had never seen anyone but the witch was alarmed but lost her fear because of the kindly way he spoke to her.
Eventually the witch banishes Rapunzel to a dark forest and blinds the prince on rose bush thorns. He wanders until he eventually recognizes the "voice" of his beloved. Two of Rapunzel's tears fall into the prices eyes and miraculously he could see.
They joyfully return to his kingdom and lived HEA yada yada yada.

Last night I watched this weird little show called "Dating in the Dark". Which dares to ask the question "is love blind?". Each week three men and women are sequestered from the opposite sex, meeting only for dates in a dark room. They talk, share meals, snuggle and maybe form a bond with someone they have not yet physically seen. Like the prince maybe they are attracted by a characteristic like singing. At the end they each pick who they feel they are most compatible with out of the three choices. After they see each other in the light for the first time, it's decision time. To stay with the person they feel for in the dark, or leave them behind?

Would the live happily ever after like the Prince and Rapunzel. Hazard to guess what happened last night?
Couple #1 - both athletic types, loved baseball, lots in common in the dark. She loved his looks
but he thought she was nothing special (even though she was totally cute) and he left
Couple #2 - both liked each others looks but her strong religious convictions were a turn off to
him so he left
Couple #3 - him geeky; preference skinny blonds, she didn't fit his "perfect girl" image. Both had a great rapport in the dark, he actually stayed

Call me a skeptic but happy ever after seldom happens. And if you get lucky enough to find someone whom you are compatible with- in the light or dark, there is a lot of work to make a
relationship be happy, let alone happily ever after.

And I forgot to mention when the prince found Rapunzel she was with twins a boy and a girl, most likely his? So did he feel obligated to marry her?
She I told you I was a cynic.

Dirt Moves

2009-07-26T16:47:00.000-07:00

I'm pretty sure everyone has heard of the saying Sugar Honey Ice Tea Happens; then when it comes to housework I say Dirt Moves.

You don't get anything clean without getting something else dirty. ~Cecil Baxter

Whether you are removing dirt from kids, clothes, dishes, or floors dirt moves from one place to another. It hopefully moves down a drain and out of your house, or in a transport device inside a vacuum, trash bin and later to the curb.

As a result of this movement I spend my whole day moving things around-
mounds of dishes, clothes, toys move hopefully to their rightful place. At the same time Life (Little Interventions From Everyone) happens to dirty up my well intentioned plans of order moving into chaos.

It often looks like I've done nothing all day, but it there was a odometer to track the dirt movement it would be astronomical. But it all becomes apparent when the person who does most of the housework becomes sick.

Come on, you all can see the mental image in your heads at this moment, and it's not pretty.

A Cinderella Story

2009-07-21T07:52:00.000-07:00

From Candyshack: a gospel according to many golfers;

This crowd has gone deadly silent.
Cinderella story. Out of nowhere.

   
A former greenskeeper now about
to become the Master's champion.

     
It's in the hole!
















This weekend everyone who loves golf, including me, hoped that
Tom Watson would win the British Open.
Why? Because he would be the ultimate underdog -
at 59 years old to win a Major.
He hadn't won a major championship in 26 years.
No other athlete has ever won a major event at that age.
It would have been a milestone victory.
He was the oldest person to lead in the third round on
Saturday.
When interviewed he said "I had a plan for the tournament,
and I was exactly where I wanted to be".

I found this simple statement so poignant.
I was also looking at his relaxed face - so full of age lines.
The deepest lines were laugh lines.
That's how I want to age,I thought to myself.

So what happened? On the final day he missed
(what the commentators said was a)easy 8' putt,
to make a bogey.
Steward Cink birdied the 18th to force a four whole playoff.
In the end youth prevailed,
and Cink went on to win the tournament.

It was like Tom was emotionally spent with finishing with
the bogey, while
Cink was on an emotional high finishing with the birdie.
The crowd was almost silent
watching Cink lift the trophy, while Watson fought back his
tears.

There is a lot to learn from this small example:

Game plans are important.
And more important is how we perceive we are doing in relationship to that plan.
Having a good ending makes you feel invincible.
And sometimes age doesn't matter, experience does.
And how we choose to age makes all the difference.


I'm still saddened that Tom Watson didn't make golf history,
but his character made a impression on me,
that hopefully will affect my history.

Only in Canada you say

2009-07-13T08:00:00.001-07:00

This reminded me of some of the cultural differences between the US and Canada, such as foods.

When I first came here I told a friend that I wanted 2% or 1% not the homo-milk and she looked at me with shock and disbelief that I could be so insensitive and rude. Homo-milk is homogenized milk, known in the US as whole milk. In Canada Homo-milk has a butterfat content of 3.25%, while whole milk is milk that has not been homogenized and will separate if left for a period of time.

Made me think of other uniquely Canadian foods eh!
- Timbits
- Red Rose tea
- Laura Secord chocolate
- Back bacon
- Scrunchins
- Poutine
- Montreal smoked meats
- Tourtiere pies
- Bugger-in-a-bag
- Naniamo bars
- Date squares
- Smarties
- Ketchup chips
- Butter tarts
- Beaver tails
- Mousehunters

As I look at the list there is little that would be on the Guide to Healthy Eating, or good for your heart list. Maybe that's why our childhood milk has 3.25% fat contents? But alas,
Ketchup chips brings back fond childhood memories. I have to go and cook some crepes smothered in maple syrup.

These are a few of my favorite things

2009-07-13T07:08:00.001-07:00

Seeing an independent film last night "Away We Go" at the Esquire theater reminded me how much I love non-main stream films.

This film is a journey of an expectant couple as they travel the U.S. in search of the perfect place to put down roots and raise their family. Along the way, they have misadventures and find fresh connections with an assortment of relatives and old friends who just might help them discover “home” on their own terms.

This made me think of whether I've truly put down roots here in Cincinnati. Somewhere in the back of my mind I still call Toronto "home" even though I have tried to drive that thought deep into my recesses. I truly love the strong connections, the friendships that I have found here - those who have made my transition so much easier. But there is still a huge cultural pull back to my country of origin. Like transplanted plants maybe I just need a time frame of adjustment; lots of nutrients; before I recover from transplant shock. OK it's been 8.5 years that I lived here so I should be on my way - but alas I feel a little stunted in growth.

Finding the Esquire has replaced my connection with the Carleton theater in Toronto. Today I have a little more spring in my step. Since I was transplanted for my hubby's job, maybe I need to discover "home" in Cincy on my own terms. That's today's ah-ha moment.

Now where can I find a beach in Cincy?
A good boardwalk where people bike and rollerblade at their leisure?
A transit system?
Multicultural events?
baby steps, baby steps...

Fits like a glove

2009-07-01T11:25:00.000-07:00

Toronto - city of my birth. I currently am at my sister-in-laws house which is about 10 minutes from downtown, as the crow flies. It's a lazy day, as all good vacations should be.
They live next to a park with a cement pool area, 2 baseball diamonds, and a couple of adjoining schools with playground areas.

I tap into the pulse of this city, which seams like a old friend - my first true love. It's all a buzz with traffic and people from all ages and races and walks of life, but it's amazingly relaxed. Moms watch while their toddlers play on the playground. Tweens arrive with skateboards and put on a show, while I read and sip my coffee. Other children of various ages arrive on rollerblades or bikes. They meet up without any signs of parent involvment. Kids just show up and play with whomever is around. Playtime does not revolve around a schedule. There is no evidence of fear.

The city fits me like a well-worn and loved glove. I feel at home here - even though it's not my sons home. Yesterday we went to the boardwalk (beaches) even if it is Lake Ontario it was so beautiful. Today we hiked in a nearby trail system, minutes from the house, sharing our walk with dogs, bikers, lovers, grandparents, children and nature. Everyone is friendly, everyone says hi or stops briefly to talk. I love it here and will be sad when I have to leave. As with a first love this city will always have a huge piece of my heart.

Passing

2009-06-26T05:07:00.000-07:00

We never know we go, - when we are going
We jest and shut the door;
Fate following behind us bolts it,
And we accost no more
Emily Dickinson

Still in shock over the passing of such Icons Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, and Michael Jackson all within two days of each other. I haven't fully processed, and feel too numb to comment. RIP.

Rapt comtemplation...one cat's perspective

2009-06-23T13:39:00.000-07:00

When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
Don't bother me; I'm in a rapt contemplation...

The Naming Of Cats by T. S. Eliot

The Naming of Cats is a difficult matter,
It isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover--
But THE CAT HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Effanineffable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.

I'm sure my cats Snooky and Blackie (humane society names) have secret self-given names. That's why they roll their eyes and turn their backs every time we call them. The only time they tolerate our presence is when we come bearing presents of food and other delicacies. Then they put up with us for a second or two.

Silenced - a convergence of three

2009-06-22T16:34:00.000-07:00

"Ellen Jamensians - people in the Ellen James Society have their tongues cut off. To protest what happened to Ellen James" - World According to Garp, John Irving. Ellen James has a eleven year old girl in the book who was raped and her two assailants cut off her tongue so she couldn't give a discription. So she wrote out a very detailed account, the men were caught, tried, convicted, and then murdered in prison.

"Social networking site Facebook has apparantly bowed to public pressure and removed a number of its member groups that allegedly deny the existance of the Jewish Holocast" - The Tech Harold

Neda(meaning voice) a young women, whose identity is unknown, was attending a peaceful demonstration of the recent Iran Presidential election. She was shot and killed as she stood next to her father. There is a video in circulation of her death - the confusion, terror reflected in her eyes as she dies. The Iranians were openly protesting the way the election was conducted. Many forms of communication are being blocked - from social networks, cell phones, text messages. Foreigners are barred from reporting any news from the protests. But the message is getting out.

These are three pieces I read today that made me think of our (thankfully) right and freedoms of speech. When should this First Amendment right be censored. Should messages of hate be censored? It is the first act of a dictator government to take away the vehicles of communication. As with the unknown girl "Neda" the messages can get out there.
The world is listening.

What is the balance between freedom of speech and censorship? It's such a tricky grey area in a world with so much promise, hope, hate and violence.

In my teaching we are encourage to have the children develop questions. Questioning is the first move in setting up an interactive classroom where effective dialogue flouishes. Good dialogue enables children to develop their thinking and reasoning and therefore learn from each other. That is why I'm inclined to think that the printed word, history, perspectives and opinions should not be censored. It's up to me as an individual to self-censor, to dialogue and question.

But that's just this one girls opinion, take it for what it's worth. Know that I was deeply moved by all three of these passages, first one fiction, second the newsworthy report, and the third a video of a young girl dying for freedom. Her images will continue to haunt me. I am grateful
that I live in a place that none of these images or words have been censored.

Feet first

2009-06-19T09:46:00.001-07:00

They say a picture speaks a thousand words. This one speaks one to me "Community (communis)". Com in Latin means together, while munis is to have charge of. They all look connected, talking, listening, waiting. It's not apparent from this picture is there is someone in charge. I think that's part of the mystery and why I find this picture so appealing. It congers a million thoughts and questions, that will probably never be answered except in my imagination.

I love living in a city where I feel a connection with even those strangers in the queues for the rail or stores. I feel safe looking out at the house lights at night knowing there are people all around me, even if they are nameless and faceless. Since the internet the concept of community has been forever altered. I connect feet first into the virtual circle meeting people on blogs, Facebook, and yes even Twitter.

But I still ponder can you truly know people without a face to face conversation (or a feet to feet conversation), or shared experiences with them. One of my true friendship tests is can you survive a road trip with someone. I do know that I need those connections each and every day.

This picture makes me smile and think of lazy days of summer. I'm doing to dip my feet into my pool. Hopefully people will join me (virtually or live).

What else am I missing?

2009-06-18T11:58:00.000-07:00

My family is Irish Catholic Canadian, in that order. Everyday growing up my mom would have some terribly over baked meat, potatoes (usually mashed), and either canned corn, beans, or peas. The only exception was fish on Friday. That was my world day in and day out. I should mention that I'm a sensitive soul - I despise cold food and am sensitive to texture and smells. There were poor times where there was nothing to eat, and there were other times where I choose not to eat. In desperation mixed with anger my Mom would declare

"Jesus, Mary, Joseph what is wrong with that girl".

Let me digress for a moment that I vividly remember. I was 6 and we had burnt pork for supper. I refused to eat it. My mom served it to me for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for almost 3 days in a row - proclaiming that I could have no other food til I joyfully ate the meal thinly disguised as pork.
So what would any stubborn Irish six year old lass do? I went on a hunger strike. I remember distinctly telling my mama that

I would die of starvation and she would go to jail for depriving me of basic needs

4 days standoff ended - my mom caved, and I feasted upon the spoils of victory!

Now back to my real point of this note.

Living in a very multicultural city of Toronto a Greek-Italian neighborhood, I had never tried any ethnic cuisine. It was not very long after the standoff that I was invited over to a friends house for supper. It was the first time I tried Lasagna. It was made with a white cream stock and mostly veggies. I was in heaven. I thought to myself what else am I missing?

After moving out on my own in my late teens I spent most of my time obsessively sampling any exotic things I could get my hands on - from Alligator, to sea cucumber; sushi to tzatzki. My only rule was no organs. I traveled through the neighborhoods and sample cultural delicacies for modest $$ from Mom and Pop shops.
I eventually met my hubby who is Dutch-Indonesian-Chinese and his mom introduced me to the most spicy heavenly combination's on this planet.

I've come a long way baby. So why did I start this rant? Recently, a friend blogged about Beer Cheese. What - I am Canadian so I love beer, and I lived around enough Europeans to truly love cheese. So why in heavens name have I never heard of Beer Cheese; which appears to be first made and discovered in KY.

What other things in the Tri-State area am I missing?
I resolve to hang out with more locals and get to the bottom of this mystery, or at least to the bottom of some bowl/plate.

A Fortunate Series of Events

2009-06-15T13:10:00.000-07:00

Last week was my officially declared by moi birthday week, here's my synopsis:

Monday - pulled my limbs from the mud, gave feet a wash (momma said a lady would never go into public with messy feet) and met my friend Jane for lunch. Her humor is infectious, Indian food was yummy, those clouds in my head are parting away.

Tuesday - "Donna, Mairi, and Madonna-Renee's grand adventure". Off to Northside. Northside has been described as "hip," "alternative," "progressive," and "liberal". It all started about a week prior when Madonna-Renee shaved her head, to donate her hair to a cancer charity. One gutsy lady. So we went off in search of some head-gear, funky clothes, shoes, jewelery and of course food.

We wandered up and down Hamilton Ave. like crazed suburbanites entering shop after shop.
Finally - the mecca, a wig store. We were told we could each try on three wigs by the shop owner. We proceeded to each pick out a wig for each other, and then our own choice. Giggles galore ensued. As we tried on our wigs we morphed into our alter egos.
BTW - I was the only one who purchased a new look, for $30 - wow.

Wed/Thurs - I'm a sub at the school system. Someone was ill and had to be hospitalized, so the coordinator called me begging me to sub for a couple of days. How could I refuse.

Friday - my "official" birthday. I first met Barb and Crista at KI. Actually the tail-gate parking lot party. They bought me PF Great Wall chocolate extravaganza, balloons, jello shots and more... What a party, and we even had fun at the park.
Fast forward - met Mis and Scott for dinner, joined by Kris and some of her friends. I neglected to tell them I was sporting my new hairdo. They finally found me and my table.
Then off to Old Street to see Penny, Quasi, and Monica perform. I was joined by Mary, Bec, Joe, Todd and Daniel. Got some get tips on wig care, purchases, and new stores to visit.

Currently I have no pictures - since my cell phone is lame, and I'm never good at planning in advance. But there are pics on cameras awaiting to be loaded into FB at some point. Can't wait to see them. Stay tuned.

PS. My hubby who is phone phobia (that's another story), gave me a little note to by a new cell phone! yippee... He was also sweet enough let Cole and friends do a sleepover so we could all stay out till the wee hours on Friday.

It's so great to have BF's you can go out to grand adventures, that will always surprise you, and it never feels old or hard to be with them. I'm truly a lucky gal- makes growing old a piece of cake.

The curious case of

2009-06-10T12:33:00.000-07:00

Wanted: a good detective, sleuth, or philosopher. Case - solve the continuous curious case of missing and unaccounted for socks.
Scene of the crime: Theoretically they enter a closed-system of washer and dryer and vanish. There are a lot of theories floating around the internet from alien abduction, black holes, time travel, or even garden Gnomes.

I have some theories.

First suspect; my female cat "Snookie" has been known to frequent the establishment and is a known kleptomaniac. She often drops small plastic packages all around the house. She hides many items under couches, mattresses. She does have a foot fetish and leaves things in odd numbers.

Second - the lint trap. If the washer/dryer is truly a closed system than particles in should equal particles out. Maybe the socks have decided to become more..., a higher purpose and have disintegrated or morphed into lint. Thus explaining in my mind, why the lint quantity changes from load to load. The disposal of link precludes that I will never find the missing socks.
Sometimes they just get agitated and stuck in or around the agitator.

Culprits number three: the men in my house. Holes, stepped in God knows what, used them for purposes that will always remain a mystery and now they have to hide the evidence. Not thinking that maybe they should dispose of the pair, they just throw the lone sock in the trash, out in the garden or places unknown.

Number four: socks and static are synonymous. They are true escape artists - clinging to all matter of clothes, especially hiding in corners of fitted sheets, Velcro strips and towels. If said articles isn't used frequently they can be incognito for months or years.

It's been a mystery puzzled by moms throughout the ages. There are several strategies for dealing with the problem:

Mine - never bother to match socks - just dump into a drawer and let the man-folk figure it out; if on some days they go out of the house with one white-blue and one white-black. Not my issue.
My friends - buy only one kind and color of socks. All black, size 10; size 6; size 4. Saves the sort and match process. Dump in the drawers and call it a day.
Also - dispose or donate the missing sock. Imagine Goodwill with 20 pairs of one lone sock - doesn't seem right.
Crafty people make them into sock-puppets, non crafty people use them to dust, or wax the cars.
Some people are optimistic and assume that they will just show up someday.
Be like Oprah "the Secret" make it your intention to have more perfectly matched socks, or create a "vision board" and the universe will sort things out for you.
I say be like Canadians and just wear bare-feet or saddles most of the time. In a pinch put on hockey skates- the socks are left with the skates. Sure they are ripe but that keeps you from being checked into the boards.

Cold Case: Some mysteries are never meant to be solved. Maybe the socks like to be left alone, maybe their not in a social mood. Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be, seeking words of wisdom, let it be...

Church of KI

2009-06-08T07:34:00.000-07:00

That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep a view
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no I've said too much (REM Losing my Religion)

Psalm 118:24 - "This is the day the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it."

Another Sunday and I'm off to my preferred spot King's Island, while others partake in Church.
One my see that as me losing my religion while others might envision it as another way to celebrate and rejoice in life. Perspective is a tricky business.

I have that magic pass that gets me into the park an hour earlier than others. And so I leap at my chance to ride Diamondback (as many times as I can fit in before my hour is up, which added up to two trips).

OK, so it's not a traditional church - but I did say a few prayers to the BIG guy on my first trip upward 200+ feet to the unknown, and I felt a sense of community with those who partook this experience with me. Life was a blur racing up and down at 80 miles an hour - and I did have time to reflect on the sheer fun and beauty of the day.
I also experienced the ride through my sons eyes. Even though he was visibly fearful he took that "leap of faith". The fear was soon replaced by terror and then complete joy. He bolted to get onto the ride again.

We were all grateful to spend the family time together, and celebrate life for all its graces.

I promise this note was never meant to offend anyone who goes to church to worship, and if I offended then I'm sorry. I have a strong belief in a higher power and hope we can all practice our faiths in our own unique way.

Standing still

2009-06-06T14:56:00.000-07:00

It's a image I can not shake lately of myself standing in a pool of mud. The mud is not deep only up to my ankles. I'm surrounded by vines within reach but I am not making any effort to reach them. C.S. Lewis has not provided me with any green or gold rings in my pockets to transport me to the in-between places. So there I stand.

I think it's the time of year - my birthday is looming, summers almost here. My son's teacher noted he is more anxious than normal. We both have trouble with transitional times. I remember not to struggle as I may sink deeper into the mud. So I wait. Maybe I'm waiting for the starting pistol to race forward, maybe I'm waiting for the universe to tell me what's next... I hate this dread of melancholy.

In fairy tails and action flicks, a hero always swoops in and rescues the princess. Maybe I'll just close my eyes, and with my vivid imagination, timidly take those first steps and leap into the clouds.

Emily Dickinson
I LIVED on dread; to those who know
The stimulus there is
In danger, other impetus
Is numb and vital-less

As 'twere a spur on the soul,
A fear will urge it where
To go without the specter's aid
Were challenging despair.

Power of acknowledgement

2009-05-28T10:53:00.000-07:00

In the broad strokes acknowledgment is just taking notice of, or validating another's existence, behavior, a comments. Sometimes it's as simple as a nod, a smile, or a paraphrase of what you have heard.

I used to try and think of the next thing to say therefore not really paying attention to what was being said to me, or how it was being said. Being a good listener is something I have worked on long and hard, and one of the keys to being able to acknowledge someone..Having children has helped me listen with intent.

I currently have a little part-time job making meals-to-order at a local High School. The kids are great, but they are so impressed when I remember their order. Mostly, they are regulars, and eat the same thing every day. They tell their friends watch this, when they step up to the window, and I make their usual w/o any directions. They always acknowledge me for doing so. I always repeat back their order for those who switch it up to hopefully show that I'm being attentive and catching any misunderstandings before I prep the food. Respect is being recipricated in both directions.

Similarly, my science students at the elementary school like when I listen to their constant questions, or when they tell their long-winded stories. Its a balancing act to keep to topic while still acknowledging them. Each year I give them a little certificate with their names and some comments. It takes some time to prepare, but they are so appreciative when they get them. This year many of them wrote to me and told their personal stories of why they enjoyed the labs, and thanking us parent volunteers. It's a win-win situation where we are both listening, learning and acknowledging each other. Funny thing happens when this is repeated - it's contagious and they look forward to your classes. Even the kids you might have written off as being the troublemakers or never paying attention write you the most sincere notes.

When us parents found out they weren't giving anything for spring soccer we rallied and we purchases little badges and ribbons for each of our kids. It was especially important for us to recognize their efforts because initially we had a very critical coach who would blame them for every loss, and finally she quit in the middle of a game. That game was our forth loss in a row. Luckly her husband and a parent stepped up. With a little bit of encouragement, the boys started to believe in themselves, and play as a team. They have won the last three games. With only one game left they won't place. But they showed great character in rallying back even when they were behind in the games, playing as a team, and having great sportsmanship.

Sometimes people are suspecious of motives when there is some praise or acknowledgement - what do you want? I'm not sure you can fake acknowledgment, I think it has to be done sincerely and honestly. Maybe I'm naive. I have a tendency to be self-absorbed so I have to make a concious effort to acknowledge others talents, accomplishment, wisdom and presence on a continuous basis. I know it makes me feel great to receive acknowledgement and I am hopefully better at giving it.

So thanks to you who read my blog rants and ramblings! I'm glad your out there...

Living with and on the Fringe

2009-05-27T13:39:00.000-07:00

The term bangs is widely used in North America but is not widely recognized elsewhere. It originally referred to hair cut bang-off (straight across at the front), although the term is now applied to diverse forms of fringe.

Most of my life I've had fringe (bangs) haircut. Why? It's a little flirty and I have a high forehead. Touche -
I use it to cover a large scar, which was a result of a little childhood game they now call Duck and Rabbit. Its a little innocuous game where you are to 'duck' if you hear duck and jump if you hear 'rabbit'. Unfortunately, harmless games were not the norm in my neighborhood.

In the summer, as a child our parents would throw us outside in the morning, and we normally weren't expected to return til dinner time. We roamed like untamed packs, armed with ingenuity and cunning. So, back to the game. We found a 2 X 4 and a large nail and decided to put the two together. Yes, you may have guessed it this was the device for duck and rabbit.

The board-nail ended lodged in my forehead. Picture me lying on the ground, with two larger boys lying beside me trying to push upward to free the board from my skull.
Alas, after many attempts they walked me home in this condition. The rest of the kids had already fled the crime scene. Needless to say my Mom freaked and a trip to the hospital ensued. I'm sure the staff had a few laughs at my expense that day where I got a week in my room with no privileges. You know it - left to scheme our next grand adventure.

Living on the fringe, I now wear the fringe to hide the dent in my forehead. Fond memories!

PS. If you ever see my pointer finger on my right hand it's about 1/2 inch shorter than the left.
I got jammed in a swing contraption we made and severed it. We children sowed the top of my finger back on and we never told any adults that happened. A little stitch in time.
All this mayhem occurred when I was between 9-12 years of age. Thankfully, my parents never found out and are not technology savvy so they are still not privy to my guarded secrets.

Haiku Poems

2009-05-23T16:46:00.000-07:00

old pond . . .; a frog leaps in; water’s sound
This is a Haiku style poem from the Japanese poet Basho. We read about him in a "Magic Treehouse" book by Mary Pope Osborne. These book series was the first chapter books that my son was interested in reading. It was quite a milestone because he was a little reading-delayed. I liked the simplicity and the imagery this poem invoked. One day, after a argument, I wrote this one:

He enters. . .
silence
I fade to black

I tend to like all things Japanese: sushi, Ikebana, zen, Mt. Fuji, karate, gardens, men... I don't know why. I just do.

What an idea - a living library

2009-05-23T15:56:00.000-07:00

Only in Canada you say. Not exactly. While reading my hubby's Alma mater newsletter I read about a Living Library. The novel event involves readers checking out books and learning about lifestyles, experiences and challenges that are different from their own. But in this library, the “books” are human beings.

The concept started in Denmark in 2000, with the purpose of breaking down barriers between different groups of people. That's why the “books” in a Living Library tend to be members of groups that frequently face prejudice, stereotyping or social exclusion.
Don’t judge a book by its cover is the message. In this Living Library more than 20 “books” on topics such as living with a physical disability or a terminal illness; being a soldier, a gay man or an adopted child; and surviving cancer or a violent crime.
People were allowed to reserve "books" in advance, checking them out for 20-minute periods, without going off campus.

I am an avid book reader since childhood, but I have never heard of this novel approach to reading (pun intended). Something they can't put in a "Kindle". It may be something my moms groups might want to do so we can share parenting experiences (the good, the bad, and the ugly).

Would any of us "books" be bestsellers?
http://living-library.org/archive-reports-from-living-libraries.html

My obsession started at a young age

2009-05-22T16:17:00.000-07:00

Here is the show that is great
For those of you who are small
So watch right now and you will see
A show we know will please you all
All the cameras lights and microphones
Are set for tiny talent to shine
So Bill Lawrence won't you introduce us please
To the guests on Tiny Talent Time.

I'm pretty sure most of you that are reading this did not grow up in Southern Ontario. Tiny Talent Time (1957-1992) was a live-action talent show for children, hosted by beloved weatherman, Bill Lawrence. Youngsters would sing, dance, play piano or showcase any other discernible talent for the viewing and studio audience. Lawrence without fail would ask his young charges: "what do you want to be when you grow up?" and "if I could snap my fingers what would you wish for?”

I always wished that I would be the most famous of all performers. I wanted so badly to sing, dance, and play the piano, wearing of course the most precious outfits, lipstick, sparkles and glitter. Those who know me know that the music-gene is not in my DNA "tiny talent" is a stretch for my musical abilities.

Critics complain that we are a complacent idling culture. As I sit and watch as reality unfolds in front and behind the camera my memory can be triggered to the Tiny Talent Time's of the past, I remember my dreams, ambitions, role models and heroes of long ago. People tend to forget that reality TV has been around for decades.

Fast forward - My dreams have changed slightly, along with some new role models and heroes. My fixation with reality talent shows remains the same. Wrapping up American Idol and on to my favorite SYTYCD So You Think You Can Dance. Once again, I can live fictitiously creating my own illusions of reality. Truly there are worse obsessions.

Black hole again

2009-05-22T11:19:00.000-07:00

Caught in this rip tide again.
My mouth wide open,
The sea pouring in.
Perhaps I'll just float here
And see where this journey ends.
Until someone gives me a reason
To stay clear of those rip tides again.
Lyrics: Black Hole Again, by Cowboy Junkies

When is it wise to fight the current of the times? There is nothing that drives me more crazy than intolerance. It seems everywhere these days, if someone doesn't follow your values, lifestyles, rules then they must be unhealthy, unwise or just plain unacceptable.

Were we always so judgmental of each other. As a younger child growing up in a multicultural diverse city it was normal that not everyone spoke the same language, had the same religion, households were parented by a wide mix of family structures, many of my friends had different rules. We just accepted that we were different and that was a good thing.

I tend to follow the philosophy of Gandhi - "There is no way to peace, peace is the way", to find that internal peace within myself. I try not to ever judge those who have different values than me. It is especially difficult when you are a mom as everyone has an idea of how to properly "parent". I hate conflict and prefer just to float, but there are times when I hear hateful or put-down comments than I feel compelled to speak my mind.

Can a peaceful collective of floaters ever change the world? or will we all get sucked in with the rip tides?

I have no answers, only hope.

If U seek Emily

2009-05-21T06:50:00.000-07:00

I can identify with Emily Dickerson's poems on so many levels. Emily was a very introspective soul, like myself. She has a childlike response to experience blended with a touch of satire and irony, which I find so appealing. One of my friends said my thoughts run like water down a waterfall - never taking an orderly path, diverging into uncharted places. A kind and beautiful way of redefining the mind of a person with ADD.

The following poem of Emily, outlines how a smooth and organized mind can become a disordered flood. A flood where the ordinary view of the world careens off to unexpected places and images.

When I was younger I thought my ADD was a curse because I could never quiet my head;
Older I realized my creativity was a bit of an advantage. But once you get a creative thought,
it often becomes an out-of-control thing that must run from thought to existence before it becomes destructive. I've learned it's just easier to let it run its course than to attempt a blockage against it.

She writes - "when I try to organize, my little force explodes and leaves me bare and charred".
Maybe in writing this I'm trying to justify to my friends why my lack of organization may just be a trait of my blessed mind?
I seek Emily's wisdom often.
Curse or cure - I no longer make judgments; finally I accept me for me.

Part One: Life - The brain within its groove...

The brain within its groove
Runs evenly and true;
But let a splinter swerve,
'T were easier for you
To put the water back
When floods have slit the hills,
And scooped a turnpike for themselves,
And blotted out the mills

A voice

2009-05-17T18:17:00.000-07:00

Often I write poems - often on napkins in restaurants, sometimes I'll wake up with some rambling thoughts in my head and run to jot them down. That's what happened with this one. I wrote it a little while back and its one of my better ones... thought I'd share this little quirk about me.

Like waters stillness - quiet, serene, reflective
Changing restless, aloof, questioning
Shaped by footprints of those who have gone before
Footsteps of those who bore me
Laughing with those who walk beside
Learning from one so alike me
Waiting for steps whose paths cross unexpected
With breath of creation -
feeling love, joy, hope unfathomable;
heartache unthinkable
Strong in its independence
Fearless in its imperfections
The voice of a women, wife, mother
Uniquely mine.

Showing Up

2009-05-17T13:56:00.000-07:00

"Showing up is half the battle" - one of those life lessons my Mom and Dad used to tell me, that you truly don't appreciate till your older. Then I went into Marketing and they preached that 90% of success is simply showing up. If it's that easy why don't we show up more?

As much as I love Facebook and email there is nothing like hanging out with friends. I love being at live concerts and in movie theaters. Who doesn't like to people watch, see others reactions?, find out whats going on with lives.
Can we truly know someone without showing up? I ponder.

K, last night I was tired. But it was a friends birthday. I had a long ways to drive, and I knew it was going to be a late night, but I wanted to be there. I battled my fatigue but it was so worth it. I had an awesome time.

Will I continue to show up. You bet ya.

A mini-roadtrip

2009-05-13T06:41:00.000-07:00

I never realized how much planning is involved to do a road trip after having children. When single, I could just call up a friend, put on cute shoes, and go, with nothing but carefree thoughts in my mind. Alas, these days involve a tad more planning - very difficult for a non-planner like myself. But yesterday, with children in school, we escaped...

What I love about my friend Donna is her sense of adventure,
she's fearless in accomplishing things that make me cower (like when my fridge breaks and floods my kitchen, or putting up display shelves in my basement, or redoing my laundry room)
she's both spontaneous and hugely organized - with coffees and a list of places to visit in hand (all brought by Donna THANKS!) we head off to Oakley, a little burb of Cinci, to explore.

We visited art shops, antique malls, mod-furniture outlets, shoe and vintage clothing stores and even had Thai for lunch. My favorite store was Modology. It was closed (by appt only) but the owner busy working inside let us in to browse around.

I got to do big-city things that were priceless to me - put change into meter parking, press cross walk buttons. I know I'm easily amused! Also, in the process I bought a GE 1940 electric clock for my basement, and THE perfect gift.

More importantly I just enjoyed life, my time off, and the great company of a good friend, where conversations were heartfelt and words and laughter flowed easily. It was exciting to see what little treasures caught each others eye and to catch up a little on what was going on with our lives.

We rushed back to beat the bus, and back to our busy lives of being Mommies. Anticipating our next grand adventure to Northside.

In Your Eyes

2009-05-10T13:50:00.001-07:00

Its always great to see how oneself is viewed. Here's some highlights from the magazine article my son wrote for me:

My mom cooks a good dinner everyday,
My mom plays video games with us,
My mom cleans the house a thousand of times,
My mom helps me with my homework,
She helps me give clues for games,
She puts my books in order on my shelf, and straightens my bed,
She shows me how to put things in my backpack

He charts the top 5 things my mom likes to do:
1: Shopping
2: Exercise
3: Gardening
4: Cooking (that's me cooking on the cover page)
5:Reading

Then there is captions:
One of my favorite memories - is when we went to Serpents Mound
Mom I think you are special - cause you are my mom
I'm glad you are my mom when - we got lost (LOL)

And the final page is when they had to put words of wisdom that all the G3 class learned from their moms:
When you steel something you'll just keep steeling; so don't steel
If you give up you'll never do what you want to do
Be nice to people and they will be nice back
Always listen to your Mom and Dad
The best thing to do is not to worry about everything
Be the best you can
Never fight with anybody
Don't touch your face or you might get a cold
Choose your friends wisely
Remember to use stuff wisely
What could be the worst thing that could happen? Everything will be alright (my son's)
Don't call people names if you don't want them to call you names back
Eat a lot of fruit so you won't get really fat
Do your homework before you play
Remember, honey, to take time and go over your tests
Open your big blue eyes and take a look at Miss Sunshine
Do your homework before you go outside and get dirty
Take a bath or shower so you won't stink
Calm down and it will be alright
Try to give yourself a little push in life
Never copy someone - just be yourself
Try to do your bests and get good grades so you can go to college
Listen so you don't get yelled at all the time
Play fair and have a funner life

All words to live by.

It's nice to be thought of as "Mother of the Year", getting spoiled with breakfast in bed; a movie "Star Trek"; Chinese dinner; lots of pampering with hugs and kisses.
Life is good!

A proud mama.

How can you tell - Conversations with my son Part II

2009-05-08T10:25:00.000-07:00

Same week as "The talk", once again out of the blue walking to the bus stop -
How do you know if someone is a princess?

Thank God an easier topic.

That's easy - she would be able to feel a pea under 20 mattresses and 20 eider-down beds.

What?

Well I explained about the story of the Princess and the Pea:
the prince searched the kingdom and found princesses but needed to know if they were "real" princesses. So this girl standing in the rain, looking rather dowdy claimed to be a "real" princess. They had her lie on the bed with the pea under 20 mattresses and 20 eider-down beds.
In the morning she was asked how she had slept. She tries not to complain but in the end has to be honest about the situation.
"Oh, very badly! - I have scarcely closed my eyes all night. Heaven only knows what was in the bed... I am black and blue all over my body. It's horrible!"
So they knew she was a real-true princess because she was that sensitive.

According to Hans Christian Anderson - that is a true story.

I love this story for many reasons.
For one my son and I are both sensitive souls and this gives credence that we can be socially accepted. Also, at this time princesses were born into a family who had the appropriate "class, title, and breeding". I think Hans was sniping at this and saying that anyone could be a "true princess" if they were sensitive - regardless of their class structure. Sensitive souls would be thoughtful, kind, gentle and honest therefore often better to wisely rule the kingdom.

Currently my princess self only rules one kingdom - my household
To this day I still find it hard to sleep in uncomfortable beds
And yes, I do have a great collection of shoes

I'm sure my son has not figured out that he is living with a "true princesses" to him I'm just Mom

The talk...Coversations with my son

2009-05-08T09:57:00.000-07:00

Flashback - about 3 weeks ago. Hubby out of town (check), getting gear ready for karate (check), quasi feed child (check), then out of the blue my 9 year old son wants to have "the talk".
Talk about being unprepared, not enough time to gab the book which would give me great insight (which I don't own), or use a lifeline "I want to call a friend", nope it's my time to wing it.
Under my breath I cuss at my hubby not being around.

Flashback to around Christmas. Post sleepover with 7 nine year old boys, Mom is sex just about kissing? or kissing and getting naked? Mom rushed - honey no it's more than that but I don't have time to talk about it now.

3 weeks ago - Mom I really want to know what it's all about. I stamper and start off with the sperm and the egg. So far, so good.
So where do they come from - onward to male and female anatomy
How does the sperm get there - more explanation
Now here's the punch-line. Regarding the female anatomy - how big is that thing anyway?
I dare you not to LOL - but I didn't. Invisibly patting myself on the back for good parent control.

Forward - we're in the car going to karate. How come babies have babies?
What do you mean honey? Why do 11 or 12 year olds have sex and have babies?
Good question I thought -
Well I explain maybe their parents didn't talk to them like I am to you know. Or maybe they just ignored their parents. There was lots of discussion about consequences. He decided that since he didn't like girls he wasn't planning to make babies.

Quick thinking: Fast forward to school recess..... guess what sex is everyone
So I told him that it's like Santa Clause and only parents can have "the talk". Why? --
cause everyone has their own way of explaining it, because they may have different religion views, different attitudes blah, blah, blah

Where now at karate and the conversation has progressed on to Club Penguin

Saga continues....is quitting OK?

2009-05-08T05:58:00.000-07:00

When is quitting OK? one of those tough parenting choices. Last weekend our soccer saga continued when the coach up and quit in the middle of the game, she blamed our kids in the process. What kind of example are we giving when a parent role model up and quits? and doesn't take any responsibility for her actions?

Several boys including mine wanted to quit the team because we haven't won a game. In fact we've been defeated by at least 7-0 every game. All season she has been very demeaning to the children, completely taken the wind out of their sails. Cause and effect was very clear in this situation. I explained to my son that we probably would never get that coach again and he decided he wanted to play soccer in the winter.
I thought - what if this experience meant that kids just followed her lead and gave up a sport they loved. That would be a tragedy!

Good news however is that her hubby along with another parent stepped in. We had one awesome practice, and then a Tuesday night game. At one point in the game we were only behind 2-1 (yeah our first goal); but we lost miserably in the forth quarter.
The other team was trash-talking all game and purposely pushing, kicking shins, shoving all game. Our new coaches said that they would rather have us lose than act like that. That if they saw any players purposely doing dirty-tricks that they would be sat out all game, and the next game.

So - there is a lot of life lessons happening here. I saw a little team spirit brewing. I saw a little glimmer of hope in some of the boys eyes.

Sometimes quitting is OK, but I don't think in the middle of a season, and not as a result of someone's bad behavior.

Hopefully my son will retain his joy and love for the game, his stubborn traits of persistence.

A small leap of faith

2009-04-30T13:54:00.000-07:00

What if a man asked you to pay $40 for a stick, with a promise that it would turn into the most amazing thing you have ever laid your eyes upon?

That's precisely what happened to me. And I opened my wallet and took a leap.

Crazy? well maybe.

I took the stick home, planted it, tied it to another stick, and kept all the pets, children (mine and the neighbors away from it) and voila...

The stick became the most amazing thing I have ever planted in my garden:

It's a Tree Peony. The little stick (that had no blooms) doubled in size every year, and for about a week this time of year I get the pot-of-gold at the end of the gardening rainbow.

Now that's a leap of faith. I guess I'm just that kind of gal.

Is there hope for survival

2009-04-29T17:39:00.001-07:00

Hello my name is Mairi and I'm a movie junkie ... 1st admit you have a problem.
All my analogies usually go back to movies.

Is there hope for survival?

In reviewing movies about outbreaks, viruses, plagues most end unhappily or ambiguously. In 12 Monkeys Bruce Willis goes back to try and determine the source of the plague to try and figure out in the future how to survive it. But this is a failure because Bruce doesn't survive the plague to return to the future and save the day (very un-Bruce like).
Other movies I Am Legend or Resident Evil you have to be a super soldier to save the day - some of those still end up sacrificing themselves for the benefit of humanity. As in Wrath of Khan the ultimate sacrifice:
Spock: Don't grieve, Admiral. It is logical. The needs of the many outweigh...
Kirk: ...the needs of the few...
Spock: ...Or the one. I never took the Kobayashi Maru test until now. What do you think of my solution?

We can hope that a few ppl will survive, long enough for another plague to come in the future and so on and so on.

So with that in mind, just jump on the media train; grab your N95 mask and hope for the best.
Or - just say your prayers, cross your fingers, and hope the media is making more
of this swine flu that it really is.

I just may have removed my rose colored glasses. Said just with a pinch of sarcasm.

Day 1

2009-04-28T05:48:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I started the Turbo Jam Beachbody exercise program.

Of course I didn't read any of the preamble of the book or instructions. I just picked a DVD, pulled on my weight gloves and started.
I liked the routine - high energy, good dance beat, and lots of karate-like moves. Got about 1/2 way through before I had to shower and go to work.

Later I did read the book and realized that I started with the advance Video, not the Learner DVD.
So I'm proud of myself for keeping up, even with the advanced version.

This shows a few things about me -
I tend to do things intuitively, which is just a big excuse not to ever follow instructions;
I have these DVD package in a drawer now for about 4 mos. so I am a procrastinator but when I start watch out I'm all in;
I love physical exercise: things with dance or karate moves, but you would be ROTFLYAO watching me because I'm very uncoordinated, but I try not to let that stop me

At least I know my strengths and my weaknesses FTMP.
The most scary part of starting was the measurements and weight-in. Now that that's over
its onward and hopefully downsizeward

Stay tuned, I'll update my progress on occasion.
Off to get buffed and do the Learn the Basics routine...

Opposites attract?

2009-04-26T21:21:00.000-07:00

The P.C. way to specify the legal union of a man and a woman, as made popular by Miss California at the 2009 Miss USA pageant.

MISS CALIFORNIA: "We live in a land that you can choose same sex marriage or opposite marriage"

I guess in my case opposites really do attract.

Perspective

2009-04-26T07:11:00.000-07:00

My sons soccer team lost BIG 0-7 yesterday. It could have been far worse but the other team went into defense mode. But on the bright side he is competitive and wants to win, but he is totally good-to-go with losing. To date there record is 0-2.

Having said all that he had his best game since he started playing (he's only on his second season). Last year they had a team of All-Stars and ended up being the champions.

So as a parent - I did feel a discouraged watching the blowout. But I thought back to my days in Corporate America. When I was on a team that had the "stars" even if just one expert, everyone seemed to rely on that person(s). I feel there was a little bit of coasting, because you could always depend on the "star" to set things right, or move things forward. When you were with a team that had no obvious "stars" but still talented folks everyone had the "sink-or-swim" attitude. Most time you just started the front-crawl together.

As I digress - now back to soccer. Maybe this year because of the lack of "stars" - major strong personalities, the team will actually improve by themselves. My son may never had played this good or improved this much on the other team? Food for thought. Life is about perspective and truly how you look at the situation.

My only complaint is that the coach (a lady) has always negative comments, w/o the balance of the positive ones. So I feel those affected by this attitude will never recover. That's whats very frustrating to me.

As I say to my little guy, if you take the loss and learn from it , but if you keep repeating without any learning than that's when there is issues.
I guess we'll see how the season goes.

A proud soccer mom!

Running with Fear

2009-04-24T19:23:00.000-07:00

"Fear is the little mind killer" - Dune

I was told that my fear-flight response is abnormal. I still experience fear on occasion, but I do seek that adrenalin rush doing things that most people avoid.

As a child we would jump from roof-tops to roof-tops or build ramps to do unnatural stunts with our bike. I'm amazed I survived past childhood.

"Some like to run, they run for fun in the hot hot sun" - Dr. Seuss Hop on Pop

The other thing is that I hate to run. I will do almost any other exercise but running is not my thing. I never ever had a urge to complete a 1/2 marathon or a 5K race.

I always thought that if I got attacked or mugged that I would decide upfront to stand my ground and fight. Running never seems to be an option, and I don't think I could out-walk them.

Maybe that's why I took up karate?

More Sleep

2009-04-23T05:25:00.000-07:00

We just finished our basement - due to a water flood. My husband said he was going to give our finished basement a redo. No time frame was listed which means maybe never.
But Mother Nature helped out and we had to rush getting new carpet - which meant painting, and so on...

The long and short of this story is that the electronics were switched around between the man-cave (basement) and the family room, and I inherited the DVR .

Usually my kids stay up till 9-ish. So I never get to see the 8 o'clock tv shows unless I watch them at 11:00 - thus adding to my lack of sleep. But now I can record things like normal folks and watch them on my schedule.

zzzzzzzzzzzz - this is me now sleeping on a normal schedule :)

Technology is so great! what's next something that will get us to REM sleep faster, or better yet, something that stops all the ppl in my house from snoring?

The Glass Slipper

2009-04-22T13:33:00.000-07:00

My favorite story was Cinderella when I was a little girl. It was a great escape.
Part of my childhood was me taking on the role of an "adult" because my mom had
OCD. Like Cinderella I did work when life should have been a little more idyllic.
I also did not get much recognition for my efforts. In fact, mostly I was left alone, doing what needed to be done, and going out to play with friends.

I actually had a happy childhood. I think mostly because I was always likable and very adventurous. I was also a dreamer who dreamed of going beyond my little world.

My favorite part of Cinderella was of course the glass slipper.
For me it was never about Prince Charming. Of course the fairy godmother was necessary.
But the appeal was always the glass slippers -

Yes - I did and still like foot-wear, but that wasn't really the deal. The glass slipper represented the "mysterious and magical key".
With the slipper Cinderella was recognized, no longer fading into the mundane background of life
With the slipper Cinderella was free to find a new life and a new adventure
The slipper couldn't be faked, only she had the foot that fit.

Is life like that? Do we all have that key to the next big adventure? I ponder;
or do I just want to be the Queen of the Ball?